


I Will Wade Out

by ephemerall



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Injuries, Porn with Feelings, post BoM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-08 04:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11073873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemerall/pseuds/ephemerall
Summary: He didn’t say a word, swallowed down the burning in his shoulder, the radiating pain every time he inhaled.  He stood quietly, unable to look any of them in the face, sweating.  The only time he glanced up Allura couldn’t even look at him.  He leaned quietly against one of the paladin chairs, unknowing who it belonged to, and inhaled slow, shaking breaths.  The pain was enough to double him over but he did no more than close his eyes and knit his eyebrows close together.(first fic in this fandom!)





	I Will Wade Out

**Author's Note:**

> Title from E.E. Cummings poem of the same name.

In the face of disbelief and shock from their team it was somehow forgotten that Keith had fought at least a dozen Galra soldiers of The Blade of Marmora. It was forgotten by everyone that he was bruised, battered, and a sword had cut his shoulder. Under his paladin armor it was all hidden, and no one knew the damage because they weren’t there to see the turmoil, the struggle, or the pain.

 

He didn’t say a word, swallowed down the burning in his shoulder, the radiating pain every time he inhaled. He stood quietly, unable to look any of them in the face, sweating. The only time he glanced up Allura couldn’t even look at him. He leaned quietly against one of the paladin chairs, unknowing who it belonged to, and inhaled slow, shaking breaths. The pain was enough to double him over but he did no more than close his eyes and knit his eyebrows close together.

 

“Keith?” Hunk was the first to speak. Hunk cared about everyone, even half-breed Galra’s like Keith. Keith didn’t bother to look up, didn’t bother to see who gave a shit about him and who didn’t. He could probably guess. Instead he exhaled through his nose.

 

“I’m fine,” he said through gritted teeth.

 

“No, you’re not,” Shiro said, and regardless of the pain that lanced up his neck at the sudden movement, he snapped his head up to glare at Shiro. “Come with me to the med bay.”

 

“I said I’m fine.”

 

“And I said you’re not!” Shiro, ever-calm, collected Shiro had never lost his temper in front of his team. Keith had seen it, a lifetime ago, but Keith had seen a lot of sides of Shiro that no one else ever would. All eyes were on them; Shiro was breathing a little harder than before, his mouth set in a grim line, and his eyes left no room for argument. He was angry, that much was obvious. Keith glanced at everyone through his fringe of hair and saw multiple sets of eyes and Allura’s back. He swallowed hard, clutching his dangling right arm to his side, and nodded once. He didn’t trust himself to speak without throwing up. Now that all of the adrenaline had worn away the pain was ratcheting up tenfold.

 

Shiro stepped up to him and Keith forced his feet to move – one in front of the other – but his legs didn’t seem to understand that they needed to hold him up. His head spun, things tilted dizzyingly sideways, and he was pitching forward into Shiro’s solid chest. He caught Keith – like always – and pulled his left arm over his shoulders.

 

“Shiro, do you need – “

 

“I got him,” he said, cutting Pidge off mid-sentence. He was usually much softer with her, but his tone left no room for question or discussion: Shiro and only Shiro would take care of Keith. Aside from the tinnitus slowly dissipating there were no other sounds in the room; everyone was silent while he leaned too much of his weight against Shiro and let himself be led away.

 

The walk to the med bay felt like miles, every breath in and out burned his lungs and made his broken ribs ache. Shiro was silent and solid next to him, leading him while he blindly hung his head down and stared at his stumbling feet as they went in and out of focus. The whoosh of the med bay door had him lifting his head, trying to carry more of his own weight, but as soon as they were inside Shiro slammed his hand over the button on the panel and shoved Keith toward one of the metal tables with his Galra-Tech arm.

 

“You stupid, son of a – “

 

Keith hit the table harder than necessary and felt the jarring shock of pain through his internal organs and every bone. He felt the air leave his mouth, and the noise he heard could not have come from him. But apparently it had and Shiro was suddenly there, taking Keith’s face in both hands – anger and worry warred across his face.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said while Keith tried to catch his breath. “I didn’t mean to push you like that – I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s fine,” Keith breathed out.

 

“It’s _not_. Keith… god, that was so _stupid_. Knowledge or death, and you thought it was a good idea? Christ, they almost _killed_ you.”

 

“They didn’t,” Keith said, his voice rough.

 

“If you ever do something like that again, put yourself in danger like that again… I’ll kill you myself.”

 

Fear was not something Keith often saw in Shiro’s eyes, not before Kerberos, and even after he kept it carefully shuttered behind walls ten inches thick. No one else saw it because they didn’t know Shiro like he did; they didn’t know what to look for or when, or how to tell that Shiro was putting on a brave face for the sake of everyone else.

 

“I’m sorry,” Keith said hoarsely.

 

Shiro shook his head and then wrapped his arms around Keith’s shoulders, pulling him in and hugging him close to his chest. Keith listened to Shiro’s rapid heartbeat; it was so strange to him to think of Shiro as so scared. He tucked his head under Shiro’s skin, and as Shiro breathed through his nose it stirred Keith’s hair, tangled and dirty from dried sweat.

 

“We have to get this armor off of you, get that damned suit off and get you in a pod.” Shiro’s voice rumbled through his chest, vibrating against Keith’s cheekbone. Keith didn’t want to get undressed; he wanted to sleep. “Keith?” Keith grunted by way of response. Shiro pushed him upright to lean against the metal table. He started pressing the releases of Keith’s paladin armor, removing it section by section until it was discarded in a pile to their left. Keith reached out to try and help and hot, sharp pain radiated down his arm. His shoulder felt warm and wet.

 

“God, that’s deep,” Shiro said. He tried to pull away the torn fabric and Keith grit his teeth. “Turn around,” Shiro said quietly and Keith did without question, bracing his hands on the table. He felt Shiro feeling along his spine, looking for the catches and releases on the Galra suit. Something clicked and Keith felt like a band had released his ribs. Shiro continued down the line of Keith’s spine, pulling releases and getting the suit open. Keith jumped at the feeling of Shiro’s warm, human hand against his neck, and the cold, robotic one at his shoulder. Shiro started to peel the suit off of his shoulders, down his arms; Keith pulled his left arm up as Shiro pushed the suit down. Shiro tugged lightly on his left shoulder, signaling him to turn back around. Keith watched his face, Shiro’s brows furrowed in concentration or dismay, maybe both, as he gently peeled the sticky fabric away from the wound. Once the fabric was down to his elbow, Shiro held his bicep in his hand, holding it still while he pulled the fabric down over Keith’s hand and let it drop.

 

Keith didn’t have to see the bruises to know they were there; the hits he took, over and over, weren’t like the hits Shiro dealt in training – careful and controlled – they were harsh and meant to cause damage. Judging by the look on Shiro’s face they had. Keith breathed slowly through his nose, in and out, while Shiro traced his fingers down Keith’s sternum, spread his hands out over his busted ribs, over his sides until they rested at Keith’s hips.

 

“You’re a mess,” Shiro said, no hint of amusement in his face. “Why would you let them keep kicking the shit out of you like that?”

 

“I thought… I thought I needed to know, but… I meant what I said, Shiro – it doesn’t matter where I came from. I know who I am.” Keith rested a bruised hand, knuckles red, split, and raw, against Shiro’s jaw. He leaned forward and Shiro leaned down and rested their foreheads together. Shiro’s breath was warm against his mouth.

 

“I know,” Shiro said, honest and open as he always used to be with Keith. Keith tilted his head up to press his lips against Shiro’s, soft and with no intent – just a press of lips to reassure them that they were ok, they were here. “We need to disinfect your shoulder and get you in a pod.”

 

“I don’t – “ Keith started but the look Shiro gave him as he drew back clearly said that there was no negotiation. “Okay.”

 

He sat gingerly on the table while Shiro busied himself with cleaning Keith’s wound. The first touch of the disinfectant liquid burned. Keith slammed a fist on the metal tabletop, clenched his teeth and hissed. It felt like Shiro was pouring acid on him.

 

“I know,” Shiro said. “I’m sorry. I’m almost done.”

 

It felt like hours. Keith was dizzy and sweating from the pain. He couldn’t remember a time he was ever such a goddamn baby about getting hurt, but as Shiro walked him to a pod he caught his reflection in the glass. His shoulder was opened wide, muscle and sinew clearly visible and it reminded him of raw hamburger. His stomach rolled and he clamped a hand on Shiro’s arm. No wonder he couldn’t use his right arm. He swallowed a few times while Shiro waited patiently before pressing the button on the control panel to open the cryo-pod. Shiro reached somewhere behind him and produced a loose white shirt and pants. After getting the Galra suit off of him he didn’t really think about standing around in his underwear, and it only hit him then that he was cold.

 

Shiro draped the pants over his shoulder while he pulled the shirt over Keith’s head; Keith slid his left arm through easily and almost screamed while Shiro directed the right through the armhole. Then Shiro pulled the pants from his shoulder and knelt down in front of Keith; Keith didn’t even have the energy for his face to heat up looking at Shiro kneeling in front of him. Shiro held the waist of the pants open and Keith stepped in, one foot at a time, and almost fell over when Shiro dragged them up to his hips. He was so tired.

 

Shiro helped him step backward into the pod and Keith felt a sudden stab of panic. Shiro stepped forward, standing on the lip of it, and put his hand on Keith’s cheek. “You’ll be fine. I’ll be right here when you get out, I promise.” Keith tried to swallow down his panic, and it wasn’t until Shiro leaned forward to press his mouth to Keith’s did it die down. “I’ll be right here.”

 

 

Waking up was slow and cold. He blinked his eyes open slowly, prepared for the too-bright lights of the medical bay, but was greeted with only a soft light from over the door. It took Keith a few minutes to get his bearings, remember how his legs worked and step out of the pod. The intense pain was gone, replaced with some stiffness. He reached up to his shoulder to feel the texture of a newly formed scar, the tissue raised and smooth all at the same time. He startled as the door of the pod whooshed closed behind him, the faint blue light it gave off making it so he could see his reflection in the glass. The puckered skin was pink, a little jagged – nothing like Shiro’s, but it wasn’t exactly attractive either.

 

“Staring at it won’t make it go away.”

 

Keith spun around so quickly he nearly fell, catching himself on the pod. Shiro stood immediately and strode the few steps over to him. “Jesus, Takashi,” Keith said, hand over his chest to feel his own rabbit-quick heartbeat. “It’s…” he looked around, “the middle of the night. What are you doing here?”

 

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Shiro said. “I promised I would be here when you came out, so…” Keith started to relax and leaned in. He leaned against Shiro’s chest; he smelled like the Altean soap in the showers and something else that was only Shiro. Shiro’s heartbeat was steady, comforting, and loud beneath his ear. Shiro’s arms came around him carefully, one palm warm against his back, and the other hand pressed to his head, Shiro’s fingers tangled in his hair. Keith pressed his hand over Shiro’s right pectoral, feeling the thump of his heart against his palm; he slid it up further over the thin material of his vest and shirt, tracing his fingers over Shiro’s collar bone until he was touching Shiro’s neck.

 

He pulled back so they could look at each other. Shiro was open when it was just the two of them, and there was so much there that Keith could drown in it. He’d scared Shiro more than Shiro was comfortable admitting to anyone but him; he’d hurt Shiro, too, in choosing to be selfish about his past rather than leave with Shiro when they had the chance. But Shiro’s face showed that he was forgiven – Shiro always forgave him no matter his transgression. Sometimes, he didn’t think he really deserved it.

 

Keith raised his heels – not quite on his tiptoes – and pressed his mouth to Shiro’s. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see it if Shiro pushed him back, but after a moment Shiro’s mouth moved under his. Warm presses of dry lips at first, until Keith feeling better and braver, opened his mouth over Shiro’s. He pressed his tongue into Shiro’s mouth, and when Shiro pushed back Keith sucked on his tongue, his bottom lip, punching the breath out of Shiro’s chest.

 

His hands slid down to Keith’s hips and squeezed, pushing him back just a step or two. Keith breathed hard and noticed the color high on Shiro’s cheeks. He moved, reaching to kiss Shiro again but Shiro stopped him.

 

“You just came out of the cryo-pod,” Shiro said, not unkindly. His lips were a little puffy.

 

“I don’t care,” Keith argued. “I just need – “

 

He crashed into Shiro again, his muscles warming up and loosening just a little. He pulled Shiro’s shirt from where it was tucked into his pants and shoved his hands under it to feel Shiro’s skin. This was real – Shiro was real, right there under his hands, not just something a suit connected to his mind conjured up to torture him.

 

Shiro took him by the face and pulled his mouth away, just out of reach. “Keith – “

 

“You left,” Keith said, something broken in his voice. “I wanted to know where I came from, and I wanted you to want it with me, but you _left me_ _again_.”

 

“It wasn’t real,” Shiro soothed. “Kolivan told me that suit was designed to show the wearers greatest hopes and fears.”

 

“Don’t you get it, Shiro? Losing you _is_ my biggest fear. I barely survived it the first time; I won’t survive it a second. I know I’m not who we thought, that I’m… I’m part…” he couldn’t even say it. “I didn’t know – I never knew. Just, please… don’t go because of that. I couldn’t take it if you hated me too.” Keith turned his head then, unable to look Shiro in the face. The fringe of his hair was good to hide behind, but unfortunately for him Shiro knew him well and knew that, too. He slipped his fingers under Keith’s chin and tipped his head up.

 

“I will never hate you,” Shiro said. _Because I love you_ was unspoken, but Keith heard it just the same. “I don’t care if you’re part Galra or Arusian, or any other form of alien out there. You’re still you; still Keith. That isn’t going to change.”

 

Keith was quiet, just listening to their breathing. All the honesty and soal-baring made him tired. He pressed his forehead to Shiro’s throat and listened to the stone-on-stone clack of Shiro swallowing. He twisted his fingers in the material of Shiro’s vest and shirt, hanging on too tightly when they were just standing in one place.

 

“Let’s get you to bed.”

 

“I was just in a cryo-pod for…” Keith paused. “For how long?”

 

“Just a little over 24 hours,” Shiro answered. Keith stepped back and stared at him in surprise. “That’s really not that long considering.”

 

“Considering what?” Keith said, scowling. “I held my own.”

 

“For a while. You got your ass beat,” Shiro said, smiling a little. “So, please, don’t do that again. It was hard to watch and I really don’t want to ever see it again.”

 

Keith didn’t say anything but watched Shiro closely. He hadn’t known Shiro was forced to watch. He tried to think of what he would do, how he would feel if their roles were reversed and he felt a surge of anger. He’d kill anyone who touched Shiro.

 

“Okay,” Keith finally said. He was tired; bed sounded good.

 

“Good. Glad we got that squared away.” Keith rolled his eyes. “Are you hungry? Do you want something before you go to bed?” Keith shook his head. Shiro opened his mouth, no doubt to ask if he was sure and Keith’s look was almost withering. “Ok. Not hungry. Bed it is.”

 

 

The walk to Keith’s room was quiet but not uncomfortable. They walked side-by-side, fingers occasionally brushing as they moved. It was strange to see the castle dark except for the dim lights above the doors. It was strange to know how quiet it could all be, but in the same way it wasn’t. Space was a void – no sound, no air, nothing – and yet they’d made a life here, strange and neurotic as it was. It was their lives, and there was a weird sort of comfort in it. Knowing that he’s been a part of space all along is unnerving, though. He doesn’t understand _how_. Is that the reason he was so drawn to space from such a young age? Is that where his mother is from? Was his father even his father?

 

“I can hear you thinking,” Shiro said and Keith looked up at him. “Stop worrying about things you can’t change, Keith.”

 

“I’m not,” he lied. “I just… have a lot of questions and no one to answer them.”

 

“Maybe they don’t need answering. You said it yourself: you know who you are, Keith. _I_ know who you are.” Shiro stared down at him as they stopped outside of his bedroom door. He was tired and he wanted to wrap up in the blankets and drop into the blackest, most dreamless sleep, but his mind was in hyperdrive. It just wouldn’t stop turning.

 

“Don’t… don’t go,” Keith said uncertainly. Sex when everyone was sleeping was one thing, spending the night together was something else entirely. Were they prepared to explain if they got caught? Would everyone else accept it? It was bad enough his own team didn’t trust him, maybe even hated him, but Keith couldn’t stand to think of them shunning Shiro too. They all knew that he and Shiro had a deep bond, a deep connection, they just didn’t know how deep. Shiro chewed his lip, looked away from Keith and then back at him again. His eyes crinkled at the corners as his mouth turned up in a soft smile. He leaned and brushed his lips against Keith’s forehead and nodded.

 

His room is tidy like Shiro’s most of the time, but not this time. He had scattered books written in Altean that he didn’t really understand, his desk chair was tipped over, and his bed was rumpled and unmade. He’d forgotten how frustrated he’d been staring at that knife and wondering for so long before they found the Blade of Marmora. He walked in first, Shiro behind him; Shiro shut the door quietly. He didn’t comment on the mess, but stopped to pick up some books and right the chair. He tossed the books on the desk, which sounded incredibly loud in the silent room.

 

Keith didn’t look back at Shiro, just slipped out of the loose pants he was put in the pod wearing. It wasn’t until he was lying on his side, facing Shiro, did he look at him. Shiro was watching him with a kind of fondness, and lifted one eyebrow.

 

“I’m like a brother to you, huh?”

 

Keith started to wonder if dying of embarrassment was worse than dying by the hand of the Galra, good or bad. He groaned, turning onto his stomach and pressing his face into the pillow. Maybe if he pressed hard enough he’d suffocate before he could die from embarrassment.

 

“I’m pretty sure brothers don’t do the things we’ve done,” Shiro said and Keith felt a hot spike of _something_ race up his spine and settle in his belly. Things had been too busy, too tense, and he hadn’t had time alone with Shiro in much too long. Keith rolled onto his side again to stare up at Shiro. There was intent there, but Shiro still had that look of concern – Keith knew he wouldn’t start anything, not now.

 

“Why don’t you remind me what those things are?” Keith said, and he watched Shiro’s eyes widen and then darken. Yeah, he hit something there. Keith was glad he had a long shirt on; it was embarrassing that he was already getting hard and all they’d done is make innuendos. Shiro searched Keith’s face for a few moments before clearing his throat. Keith watched, mouth drying out, as Shiro slowly took off his belt and set it on the chair. He unzipped his vest and folded it, laying it on top of the books on the desk. His shirt goes next and Keith inhales; Shiro’s body was something amazing in and of itself, and even though Shiro tried to hide his scars from everyone else, Keith loved them all because they were just part of Shiro. Keith smirked when Shiro took off his pants; there was a slight bulge in Shiro’s boxers and Keith had to bite the inside of his cheek. It was good to know he wasn’t the only one who got turned on by the things they said to each other.

 

Shiro climbed over Keith and settled with his back to the wall; Keith turned over to face Shiro. He blinked slowly, tired but unwilling to sleep yet. He pressed closer to Shiro, tangled their legs and inhaled the smell of Shiro’s skin. Shiro readjusted them, sliding an arm under Keith’s neck, and placing his Galra-Tech arm over Keith’s waist. They stayed that way for a long time, Keith drifting in and out, surrounded by Shiro’s warmth.

 

Shiro’s cool, metal fingers skimmed up and down his spine, leaving goose flesh in their wake. Keith shivered and exhaled a breath against Shiro’s throat and felt the stirrings of arousal start anew. He kept his eyes closed and kissed the hollow of Shiro’s throat; kissed his collarbone, and Shiro swallowed, his robotic hand stilled on Keith’s hip. Keith opened his mouth against Shiro’s skin, placed wet, open-mouthed kisses to his chest, his throat, until he scooted up and sucked Shiro’s earlobe into his mouth. Shiro inhaled and exhaled just as hard, and pulled Keith tight against him. Keith was too busy trying to roll Shiro over and get on top of him to gloat over the fact Shiro was just as aroused as he was. He found Shiro’s mouth, soft and pliant, wet and warm. Keith threw a leg over Shiro’s hip and pulled them even closer. Shiro grunted into Keith’s mouth.

 

“Keith,” Shiro said against his mouth. “We can’t – you just – “

 

“I don’t care,” Keith said. “I’m ok. I want this, Shiro. I need this.”

 

It happened quick enough to leave him disoriented for a moment, but Shiro had grabbed his hips and rolled them. Shiro was on his back, looking up at Keith, who now sat straddled over Shiro’s hips. He shivered feeling Shiro’s arousal pressing hard against his ass.

 

“Tell me what you want,” Shiro said softly.

 

“I want you. I want… this. Us.” Keith answered.

 

Shiro pulled him down hard, their mouths crashing together, and still he didn’t guide Keith or attempt to take any control. He was telling Keith without words that this was his show; Keith called the shots or there would be nothing going on. So Keith sucked on Shiro’s tongue, bit at his lips, and ground his ass against Shiro’s crotch. Shiro groaned and Keith leaned forward, pressing his dick into Shiro’s stomach. He could rub off on Shiro right there, do nothing more, and Shiro would let him. He wouldn’t ask for Keith to take care of him; he’d ignore his own need and do whatever Keith needed.

 

Keith sat up without warning and ripped his shirt over his head. His shoulder twinged, still tight in places. He slid back so he was sitting on Shiro’s thighs. “Get these off,” he said, tugging at Shiro’s boxer-briefs. Shiro said nothing, only arched an eyebrow and lifted his hips. Keith pulled them down, slid backwards on his knees until he could pull Shiro’s underwear all the way off and toss them on the floor.

 

He didn’t wait for an invitation, or ask Shiro what he wanted; he stepped off the bed and slid off his own boxer-briefs, a wet spot already forming where his cock was trapped against his hip. Naked he walked over to the desk, pulled the drawer open and then handed Shiro a tin.

 

“What is this?” Shiro asked, bemused.

 

“Some kind of… salve. It’s safe, I asked,” he said. Shiro’s eyebrows hiked into his hairline. “I didn’t ask _that_. I asked if it was safe to use for humans. It’s like… healing stuff. Since were not on earth and I can’t walk to the store to get lube, this will have to do.”

 

Shiro looked like he’d been punched in the gut, all the air leaving him in a rush. They had done plenty of things on the castle-ship. They’d fooled around, touched and kissed, and even sucked each other off, but the last time they actually had sex was before they left in the blue lion. In that old shack where he’d begged Shiro to fuck him into the mattress while 3 people he didn’t know slept eight feet away.

 

He realized Shiro was unscrewing the lid, propped up on one elbow. He looked at it skeptically; it was clear like lube and it didn’t smell like antiseptic. Shiro touched it and Keith laughed in spite of himself. Shiro looked ridiculous with his dick hard and curving up toward his bellybutton, half propped on an elbow with a tin of salve that he was sniffing, while Keith stood there, his own dick jutting out into the cool air.

 

“Something funny?” Shiro asked.

 

“It’s the only lube we’ve got, so work with it, Shiro,” Keith said, mouth turned up at the corner. “And you’re going to use it because I want you to fuck me.”

 

“Jesus, you have a filthy mouth,” Shiro said with no heat. He was coating his fingers in the stuff as Keith was climbing back on top of him, sitting over his waist and almost on his chest. “I should wash your mouth out.”

 

“After you fuck me,” Keith said. Shiro couldn’t help but laugh. With his robotic hand he grasped Keith’s hip and pulled him forward an inch or two and Keith jumped when he felt Shiro’s cold, jelly coated fingers at the base of his spine. Shiro slipped his fingers down, holding eye contact with Keith as Keith bent forward, leaning his elbows just above Shiro’s shoulders.

 

Keith sucked in a breath when one cold finger found its mark, sliding in slowly and back out slower. Keith rocked into it, dragging his dick across Shiro’s skin. When Shiro added a second finger Keith’s breath hitched, his cheeks warmed, and he stared down at Shiro whose eyes were heavy with lust. The third finger had Keith tipping his head back, mouth open while Shiro leaned up and sucked at his skin. Shiro used long, spreading stabs of his fingers, seeking out the tender patch inside until Keith jerked involuntarily. Keith looked down at Shiro, a look he’d come to recognize as the equivalent of _I found it_.

 

The tips of Shiro’s long fingers, placed just right, had Keith seeing starbursts behind his eyelids. He reached back and grabbed Shiro’s wrist while his fingers were buried to the hilt and Keith was breathing hard.

 

“Stop,” Keith said, voice ragged.

 

Immediately he felt Shiro tense beneath him. “Am I hurting you?” The concern in Shiro’s voice was endearing, but what he was doing to Keith was anything but painful.

 

Shiro tried to pull his fingers out but Keith whined and held his wrist tighter. “I’ll come. Just… just don’t move.” Keith didn’t have the mind to be embarrassed when he looked at Shiro and saw such surprise on his face. Shiro rubbed soothing circles on Keith’s hip, waiting for Keith to nod and tell him it was ok to pull his fingers free, and eventually Keith’s grip on his wrist loosened. He carefully pulled his fingers free and Keith shivered. He grabbed the opened tin next to them and slicked his hands. He gave Shiro no warning and started working the slick onto his cock. Shiro jolted, groan sneaking out of him and hands flying to squeeze Keith’s hips. Keith hoped it would bruise so he could press them tomorrow and think of what they’d been doing.

 

He kneeled up over Shiro, held his cock at the base and pressed back. They kept their eyes open, watching each other; Keith watching the pleasure wash over Shiro’s face, and Shiro looking for any sign of pain. Keith scrunched his nose in minor discomfort as he sunk onto Shiro, taking him inch by glorious inch. When he was seated fully both of them were breathing hard. Keith rose up an inch or two and slid back down, ass to Shiro’s thighs. He repeated the same motion for minutes that seemed like hours; sweat was beginning to slide down his neck, his hair was getting stuck to his forehead, and his thighs were starting to burn. A familiar coil of pleasure was turning tighter in his belly and he gasped, pressing his hand to Shiro’s sternum. He didn’t want to come yet, but like this Shiro hit the perfect angle, the perfect depth, the perfect everything and Keith had no hope of holding out.

 

“Keith?” Shiro’s voice was wrecked. “You ok?”

 

“My legs are tired.” It wasn’t a complete lie. “So I’d really like it if you’d get on top and fuck me through the mattress.”

 

“That mouth,” Shiro said and yanked him down to kiss any response he might have had right out of his mouth. Shiro helped Keith lift himself slowly and eased them over. Keith was on his back; Shiro kneeled between his legs, coating his dick in more of the slippery salve. He wiped his hand on the bed cover and Keith frowned at him. Shiro laughed before grabbing hold of himself and lining up. Keith lifted his legs over Shiro’s waist. Shiro sunk into him slowly, too slowly, and Keith was ready to fold himself in half to get Shiro where he needed him.

 

 

The wet sounds of them fucking filled the tiny space and Keith could hardly breathe. He needed Shiro everywhere – around him, on him, filling him. He needed everything. His own cock was hard, his hand fisted around it loosely. He wanted so badly to fuck up into his own fist, but Shiro wasn’t there yet – he didn’t want it to be over, either. Every time Shiro’s hips bumped against him Keith felt the heat coil a little more in his belly. He couldn’t help the little noises escaping him. Shiro was breathing hard, sweat gathering in the hollow of his throat and shining on his skin. Keith reached for him. Shiro understood. He leaned forward, hands on either sides of Keith’s head and Keith surged up to kiss him. Shiro groaned and thrust harder, fisting one hand in Keith’s hair just tight enough to be on the verge of painful. Shiro redirected their kiss into something slower but infinitely hotter. Keith felt like he was on a bed of coals; he was burning up from the inside. He cried out when he felt Shiro’s slick hand wrap around his cock.

 

“Show me,” Shiro said, his first show of dominance all night. “Come on, Keith, show me. Wanna see you come.”

 

Shiro speared into him, harder and a little faster and Keith slid his legs up higher until his heels were pressed to the small of Shiro’s back. His fist moved fast over Keith’s cock, his own pushing deeper than before and Keith jolted. He keened, high and a little embarrassing and his whole body felt locked up. He kissed Shiro harder, moaning into his mouth, grabbing what hair he could on Shiro’s head. The heat behind his navel exploded, racing up into his chest and down his spine. “ _Fuck_ ,” Keith cried, pulsing over Shiro’s fist and over his own stomach. Had it been anyone but Shiro he’d be embarrassed about the mess he’d made. And Shiro fucked him through it, hard and fast; when he wrung the last pulses out of Keith he put both hands on either sides of Keith’s head again.

 

His hips snapped into Keith’s, and Keith knew Shiro was chasing his own orgasm now. Shiro bit at Keith’s neck, too soft to leave marks but hard enough to sting; he knew what Keith liked and Keith was glad for it. Shiro’s breathing hitched and he pressed his face into Keith’s neck.

 

“’M gonna come,” he murmured. Keith pulled him up and pushed their mouths together. He swept his tongue against Shiro’s, lifted his hips to meet the harsh tempo Shiro was setting and watched Shiro’s face when he gasped. “ _Fuck,_ ” he swore. “ _Keith.”_

His eyes slammed shut and he pressed his forehead to Keith’s; Shiro’s breath was hot on his face. He felt Shiro lengthen inside him, felt the surge of warmth and how much slicker it made the way for Shiro’s cock. Shiro slowed his pace, back tensing with every wave of orgasm that hit him, until he was still, hips pressed to the back of Keith’s thighs and still buried deep. Shiro let his weight settle on top of Keith, and Keith felt good with Shiro’s weight pressing him down, anchoring him there.

 

After a minute or two Shiro lifted his head to look down at Keith. Keith’s eyes were heavy with exhaustion, but his smile was sleepy and sated. “You ok?” Shiro asked.

 

“Fucking perfect,” Keith said and Shiro laughed, kissing his temple. Keith inhaled and breathed out slowly as Shiro drew his hips back; he winced a little but he was warm and content nevertheless. Keith rolled to his side to make room for Shiro at his back and jumped when Shiro smacked his ass. Keith glared at him. “That’s a scene from every bad porno out there.”

 

Shiro laughed again and pulled Keith back against his chest. They were a sticky mess and the room reeked of sex. “I had to. I’m sorry; I just couldn’t resist.” Keith smiled anyway and elbowed Shiro in the ribs good-naturedly. Shiro grunted and yanked Keith back against him fully, slotting their legs together.

 

When the high of orgasm wore off, Keith was staring at the door of his room. “Shiro?” Shiro hummed in response. “We’re ok, right?”

 

Keith didn’t show his insecurities like this; he didn’t like to be vulnerable, but he’d learned a long time ago that with Shiro it couldn’t be helped. Shiro kissed the back of his neck, slid his hand up along Keith’s sternum and pressed it there. “Yeah,” Shiro said softly. “We’re good.”

**Author's Note:**

> Post BoM they don’t really give us anything on Keith’s injuries. You can’t tell me after a beating like that he’s totally fine, no pain, no nothing. He was CUT with a freaking SWORD, got his ass KICKED hardcore. He’d be bruised, sore, and probably need medial attention. More than that, there was SO MUCH unsaid between Keith and Shiro, especially after his suit showed that Shiro’s acceptance and approval was his greatest hope, and Shiro waking away, leaving him behind (again) is his greatest fear. There is just… so much to explore there, and granted, the show doesn’t have any confirmed relationships and it’s not like they could explore any kind of sexual experience on the show. So… I filled in the blanks the way I think it could have gone, may have gone, and in my head probably how it DID go. It hit me right where it counts when, after finding out that Keith is part Galra that Shiro didn’t question it, didn’t question HIM, and accepted it like it was nothing.


End file.
